Monday, October 19, 2015

Ananda & SRF: Why so Different?

This begins a five-part series inspired by a recent visit of Ananda members from Seattle to southern California where Paramhansa Yogananda had his home and headquarters from 1925 to 1952. Each segment will be posted separately to be read at one's leisure. (Reminder: my views are entirely my own.)


Part 1 – We Visit SRF Locations in Southern California

I and 30 other members of the Seattle Ananda Sangha spent nearly a week in the greater Los Angeles area visiting the places where Paramhansa Yogananda lived and taught. Swami Kriyananda also lived and taught in most of these same places during the last 3.5 years of Yogananda's life and, between there and India, for another roughly 8 or 9 years following Yogananda's passing in 1952. During this time and before being ousted from Yogananda's organization, Swami Kriyananda was Vice-President and a member of the Board of Directors for some of those years in "SRF."

As most readers of this blog are keenly aware, Ananda was sued by SRF and it took some 12 years for the suit to be put to rest. It cost both parties millions of dollars. Though Ananda was assessed with minor monetary damages for duplicating and selling two audio recordings of Yogananda's voice, Ananda's rights to represent Yogananda's teachings, name, image, etc. were upheld. A book, "Fight for Religious Freedom," authored by Ananda's main attorney, Jon Parsons, details some of the history and issues. But today I am not writing about that long and difficult struggle that has so shaped and focused Ananda's work ever since. This is not an apologist effort, for either side, nor am I focused on any other aspects of Ananda or SRF beyond the topic I describe below.

Last week, then, as we toured the SRF places, I could not help but ask: "Why are we (SRF and Ananda) so different?" This wasn't a “good vs. bad” question. It is a curious and inquiring one. Members of SRF, especially referring now to its monastic members who are the stewards of these shrines, are obviously devoted to Yogananda, practicing the kriya yoga meditation techniques, and sincere in every possible way. Yogananda's living spirit and grace surely brings to them, as much as anyone, and possibly more than to most, the soul awakening and personal transformation that disciples of a great guru seek.

And, in fact, those whom we met, our hosts, were gracious, kind, centered and indeed everything one naturally expects from devotees who are deeply committed.

What, then, do I mean by "different?" To keep my thoughts focused, clear and simple, I would say the differences are typically described as follows: the one (SRF) is more reserved and the other (Ananda) is considered more “open.” The one, SRF, is run by monastics (monks and nuns) and the other (Ananda) includes families, singles, and couples as well as a small contingent of monks and nuns. So the simplified “reserved” vs. “open” fits the picture well enough for my purposes today.

But why? Aren’t we both followers of the same spiritual teacher? Yes, but here’s my theme for this article: I believe that the circumstances of the founding and early history of each organization has influenced the character of each.

As we toured the beautiful gardens at the Encinitas Hermitage on what was a typical weekday, I observed many other visitors besides our tour group. Most visitors did not look especially like disciples. It is the same at the Lake Shrine in Los Angeles, which is better known to the general public and which sits on the outskirts of one of the world’s most populace cities. At both of these wonderful places, one more or less observes a wide range of visitors attracted simply to the beauty, serenity and peace of the place. Based on the testimony of people I’ve met over many years, I believe that many visitors have no idea who Paramhansa Yogananda was (or, if so, only generally), or his teachings or organization.

It was in observing the steady flow of casual visitors that the seed of my thinking was planted.

Before I begin let me say that most of what I learned about the life of Paramhansa Yogananda and the history of SRF was from Ananda’s founder, Swami Kriyananda. Other sources include Yogananda’s own writings and voice recordings, the writings of other direct disciples, my own, personal observations, and the testimony of other Ananda members. I am not going to constantly give resource quotes for the statements I am about to make, as it is a mixture of all of these sources. Beyond these sources I will admit out front that I have very little personal experience or personal contacts with SRF and its members. In my years at Ananda since the late 70’s I’ve had little interest in the personalities, activities, opinions, writings or ministry of SRF leaders or any particular interest in SRF’s organizational activities or policies.


Part 2 – Paramhansa Yogananda comes to America - next article

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Our Visit to the Shrines of Paramhansa Yogananda in Los Angeles!

Last week a group of Ananda members from Seattle flew to southern California to tour the places where Paramhansa Yogananda lived and taught and where, also, our founder, Swami Kriyananda came to live during the last three plus years of Yogananda's life and for another eight or nine years after that.

Our trip began in Encinitas where Yogananda wrote (most of) his now famous life story, “Autobiography of a Yogi.” Here, on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, are beautiful meditation gardens, the Hermitage itself, and staff and guest quarters. This was the location of Yogananda’s experiment with what he called a “world brotherhood colony:” where people of all walks of life, races, religions, monastic or householder would learn to live and work together. In his time, he grew vegetables and fruits and had a vegetarian café along the Pacific Coast Highway.

We meditated and enjoyed the vibrations of the residue of the many hours of samadhi enjoyed by Master and his most advanced disciple, Rajarshi Janakananda.

We also swam at “Swami’s beach” (the actual name of the state park/beach below the bluffs; so named by the surfers, residents, and fishermen of Encinitas for whom a great love for Master was felt) and ate at the nearby (and now privately owned) Swami’s café.


In Encinitas we chanted and meditated at the local Ananda center on the property of Casey Hughes. Casey, who has traveled to India some forty times so far this life, had designed and constructed a lovely outdoor meditation shrine which he had commissioned and constructed in Bali. It was then disassembled and packed into a shipping container and sent to Encinitas where it was reconstructed.

In honor of the pilgrimages led by Swami Kriyananda (years ago) that included a visit to Disneyland, we spent a day there, too. Imagine 30+ adults with no children roaming around Disneyland muttering, “Gee, it IS a small world after all!”

We proceeded to the famous Forest Lawn cemetery in Glendale where the body of Yogananda is interred. This is a popular sacred spot for thousands of pilgrims from around the world. Meditating and chanting in the great halls of Forest Lawn where the Master’s body lies is a special experience. (There are also many famous Hollywood celebrities interred there.)
  
One may easily discover that although Yogananda’s spirit may be omnipresent, his human remains continue to pulse an undying beacon of superconsciousness calling us, too, home to eternal bliss.

Next we visited the SRF Hollywood Temple on Sunset Boulevard. This is where Swamiji met Yogananda on September 12, 1948 and was accepted as his disciple. At various times both Yogananda and Swamiji gave Sunday Services, classes and meditations in the simple but elegant chapel. There one sees two pulpits: one for the resident minister and another for a visiting minister. He called it the “Church of All Religions.” The grounds are lovely beyond imagination: simple yet astral in beauty. We chanted and meditated in the chapel and were hosted by Brother Pranavananda.

Our next stop was Yogananda’s headquarters atop Mt. Washington: a short distance from downtown LA. As a young monk in India it was this building (and the Encinitas hermitage and the school at Ranchi) that he saw repeatedly in visions. We were escorted up three flights of stairs to the apartments of the Master. Words cannot describe the powerful vibrations of utter stillness. It is like walking into the “Vacuum of Eternity,” another world saturated with stillness and divinity hushed but latently infinite.

On the first floor of Mt. Washington, we meditated in the chapel where Yogananda gave kriya initiations, classes, and led meditations. Here too the residue of cosmic consciousness lingers like a “worm hole” into eternity. (One cannot adequately describe the blessing of sacred places where divinity has appeared. It’s not a matter of religion or belief, but experience. Nor is it confined to any one culture or time.)  

Outside in the Temple of Leaves we sat and meditated where Yogananda sometimes gave outdoor classes and where Swamiji and the monks would meditate together. Many of our pilgrims reported their deepest experience here, sitting there under the lovely pepper tree. 

We stayed three nights at the Biltmore Hotel, a structure of such phenomenal artistry and beauty that it stands alone like a time capsule to the days when Yogananda first came to Los Angeles and lived in the Biltmore (before Mt. Washington was purchased). It was here in what is now the lobby of the hotel that he left his body on March 7, 1952. (The occasion was a banquet in honor of the newly appointed ambassador to the United States from India.) Reading (as he once predicted in contemplating the end of his life) his poem, "My India," he dropped gently to the floor, leaving his body, as he said he would, by stopping his heart at the appointed time that he was summoned “home” by God.

While the former banquet hall is now the lobby, the staff at the Biltmore are familiar with the story and the fact that people come year round (but especially in March), to sit calmly with eyes closed near the beautiful Italian artwork before which Yogananda spoke. (You can see parts of the wall piece in the well known picture of Yogananda which is called “The Last Smile.”)

We were guided and ably assisted by the Ananda Center in LA leaders, Narayan and Dharmadevi Romano. They befriended everyone and charmed us with their sweet and focused presence.

On Saturday we visited the famous Lake Shrine which sits in a hillside bowl on a tight curve near where Sunset Boulevard ends at the Pacific Coast Highway. This incredibly beautiful property has as its visual centerpiece a small lake. On it is a houseboat used for meditation and a reconstructed Dutch windmill used as a chapel. The most beautiful grounds and hillsides surround the lake. Ashes of Mahatma Gandhi lie in a sarcophagus (the only ones outside India) and special shrine by the lake. Much more could be said. Thousands come here: some as devotees, some as neighbors, many, attracted like bees to the nectar of peace in a peaceless world.

We were welcomed warmly with the divine smile of Brother Achalananda, once a brother and junior monk to Swami Kriyananda (who as the head monk at the time, accepted Achalananda into the monastery sometime after Yogananda's passing). In two segments (because we couldn't all fit), he chanted and meditated with our group in the houseboat. 

Later, he regaled us with stories at the Lake Shrine temple (built high above the lake) and also commented with kindness and understanding in regards to Swami Kriyananda. It was a special moment for those who were there.

Those of us who were blessed to travel together to these holy places share an unforgettable memory and grace which is ours to meditate upon, nurture, and share.


May the blessings we have received radiate outward in waves of peace!

Nayaswami Hriman

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Confrontation with God: the unspeakable truth!

I've been meditating for decades and teaching meditation publicly for at least half of those decades. Whenever I am tempted (in writing articles or speaking) to start describing "God" I know I'm heading down a slippery slope (to hell? or, to hell with it?). Can we just agree that "God is Infinite" and therefore beyond definition? That would make my article here easier to write, ok?

If you, as a reader, have been taught to meditate anywhere in the Ananda world you will know that we describe meditation as having three stages. Using these or other English words, we begin with Stage 1: Relaxation. In this we might use yoga or similar stretches to relax and also energize the physical body as we transition from ordinary activities towards sitting in meditation.

Stage 2 consists of internalizing our awareness and focusing our attention inwardly. We might chant, use a creative visualize, work with the breath, or observe the breath in a popular mindfulness technique which, in our version of it, Paramhansa Yogananda called, simply, "Hong Sau." There are many other techniques, some more advanced, such as Kriya Yoga.

Stage 3 is when we leave behind all techniques and sit in the silence. Hands down this is, for most meditators, the most difficult phase. Here, we let go completely of doing and relax into "being." While there are elements of this process in Stages 1 and 2, in Stage 3 its a bare-bones, down and out fist fight with the ego to shut up, let go, and go away!

So it's not God we are confronting, it's the ego. And yet, to the ego, it IS God we are confronting and "he don't want nothin' to do with Him." It's like a possessed person being confronted by a saint who commands that the evil entity leave the body of the possessed person. The ego kicks and spits and sends out a blistering diatribe of useless, dumb, or purposely hot-button images.....anything to keep our soul nature from emerging from the ego's prison of self-and-body-pre-occupation.

Oh, yes, there are moments of sweetness, calmness, joy, and surrender. But as Deepak Chopra described meditation: it's the "space BETWEEN our thoughts." I don't care much for this negative definition but I confess that for millions of meditators it's probably closer to the truth of their actual experience.

I could write a book about this issue and share ideas taken from Paramhansa Yogananda, and from my teacher (and Ananda's founder), Swami Kriyananda, and from the Yoga Sutras (Patanjali) and from the long and rich tradition of God-realized yogis and saints. But, well, I have other things to do, too. [There are some pointers to meditators that I could give here but .... maybe some other time.]

This is an unspeakable topic in the sense that a teacher of beginning meditation wants to inspire and encourage, not discourage new students. When I contemplate the challenge and what it takes to consistently have meditations where the ego-mind subsides into silence, and the invisible presence of the powerful, loving, joyful, and/or expansive God of the Self "appears," I tremble.

Yet there's a simplicity in truth. The simple truth of "seeing" God is that you really, really, really have to want to. Does that sound dumb? Trite? Well, too bad for you because it's really, really, really true!

We Ananda teachers enjoy telling the story about Paramhansa Yogananda's first kriya yoga disciple (a Boston dentist named Dr. Lewis) who confronted Yogananda, insisting that he be given a taste of cosmic consciousness. After pestering Yogananda repeatedly, Yogananda one day grabbed Dr. Lewis' (wide) lapels, bringing their foreheads close together and said, "Doctor, if I gave it to you, could you take it?" Dr. Lewis being given "stiff shot" of the stuff (so to speak), lowered his eyes and said meekly, "No sir."

When, even in fleeting moments, we are faced with what seems like the possibility of becoming the Self--this immense, invisible, overwhelming Self--the ego invariably stops and asks for a metaphorical "rain check." Like St. Augustine who prayed, "Make me good, Lord, but not yet."

Part of us does; part of us doesn't. Usually, and until only after great and repeated effort and grace, the part aligned with habit wins out. The "demon" of God has to be confronted and wrestled with. I say "demon" because that's more or less how the ego sees it.

It is devotion and the childlike faith and trust of our true Self that dissolves the invisible but ego-built barrier between me and Me and You. You have to sincerely and purely (and for no other reason) want God alone; Love alone; love without condition or expectation. You have to "know" without second thought that there is nothing greater worth having or being. You have to be convinced to your atoms that there is no other thing, desire, experience, person, or state of greater value. No opinion, no talent, no fantasy worth keeping.

I don't want to discourage anyone. After all, meditation has so many benefits (physical, mental and spiritual) that it really doesn't matter that you haven't "hit the wall," or even seen the darn thing yet. "Sufficient unto the day" is the meditation thereof.

Yet we are all -- beginning meditators and lifelong meditators -- confronted, at least sometimes, with the struggle and the wrestle with that invisible state and presence that calls to us out of the darkness of our unknowing. Is it a demon or an angel? We really don't know. Aren't my thoughts (and plans for the day) important? We won't know until we enter the arena. We won't know whether we are wrestling the ego or the angel until one of us, of them, succumbs to the other.

Entering the arena, then, is a supreme act of faith, and love. Faith is born of love and love, of faith. As Job said in the Old Testament, "Naked I came out of the womb and naked shall I return thither." We must leave everything thought, every self-identification, desire, memory, fear....all of it behind not knowing "whence I go."

I leave now chanting Yogananda's chant: "I shall be roaming, roaming, roaming...."

Joy,

Nayaswami Hriman